Forevermore Changed
by The Slain Executioner
Summary: Nothing ever goes my way in life. I was an accident child; my parents didn't want me. All I had was my wonderful girlfriend... until she betrayed me. My heart has been frozen into steel; my soul blackened into tar. Nothing can bring me back. And I love every single experience, every second of it.


**AN: I got a creative spark while writing my Akame fic. This is a tragic story of a boy who is betrayed by his girlfriend and ends up hospitalized. Warning: Blood and gore, language, and spoilers ahead. Read at your own risk. Instead of my Akame fic, which is dialogue based, I wanted to write a oneshot that's detail-based. I hope you like the change in style, and if you like Akame ga Kill, go check out my other fic. **

My eyes felt as if a champion weight-lifter was pressing down with all his strength on my lids. I was in a cold, sterilized, fucking hospital where all the nurses were bitches and the doctors were douches. They cared more about their salary and socializing amongst themselves than they did about the patients. I tried to move my arm to press the call button; however; this was brought to a screeching halt when an explosion of fiery pain rocketed through my left arm. I laughed. The bastards here forgot that my left arm was the one that took the brunt of the fall. Awkwardly reaching over, I pressed the call button.

A few minutes later, a nurse with her brown hair tied in a bun with too much eyeliner walked in. In the seven steps it took to reach me, I already grew to hate her. "How can I help you, sir," she droned in the monotone of monotones.

"Can I have another dose of painkiller? My body's killing me," I asked. I expected the painkiller to arrive, but shitty customer service. I got exactly what I expected; a simple dose of painkiller, but a colder-than-freezing, "Here you are."

I silently swallowed the pills. I watched the nurse leave my room and sighed. The cold, sterile walls of the hospital perfectly reflected the treatment I received. Yeah, leave it to my fucking body to get deathly sick and produce extreme pain in my upper back. What led up to my oh-so-fortunate hospitalization was a girl. Yes, just like every story you hear. The guy meets a girl and the girl turns out to be bad for him. That's what happened to me. I was dating a wonderful young lady- or so I thought. She was so perfect; everything a man could want in his counterpart. Tall, dark-skinned, and beautiful with a great personality to boot, she had the looks and the qualities of a perfect girlfriend.

Until she tried to murder me for pleasure. We were baking a cake when suddenly she stabbed me in the back with a knife she had recently yanked out of the cinder block. I remember her twisting the knife around and laughing maniacally, all while losing consciousness and seeing the tip of the blade protrude from the front of my chest. My blood was everywhere; on me, on her, all over the kitchen. Soon I passed out from shock, and later I was informed that she stabbed herself as well by pitching her neck onto the piercing blade.

Serves that fucked-up bitch right.

Nothing in the entire world could describe how much I'd changed in one night. I went from timid, reluctant, wimpy high school student to a cold, heartless, and unsympathetic from the point where the knife entered to the point where it exited; it happened so suddenly and so quickly. My mind's processing changed drastically; my love had betrayed me. I now had to live with the vibe that everyone was out to kill my pathetic body. I could never be loved again by anyone without being literally backstabbed.

I could never love another again.

My iPhone was on the nightstand to the left of me, just inches away from my fingers. Upon setting my eyes on the piece of technology, I was immediately struck with a wave of boredom, forcing me to check my phone. There were couple of notifications, mostly stupid bastards posting "Bro, I'm sorry", "Sorry for the accident", or "Thinking 'bout you" in my social media apps. I mentally flicked them off and looked up recent news. The news is stupid. All it is is a bunch of morons sitting behind a desk talking about someone else's fucking problems. Heh. I was in the news. It reported me being stabbed and miraculously living. Thankfully, they ruled the bitch's death a suicide, not blaming it on me, thank god.

I couldn't keep my mind off of what happened to me. I was attacked and am experiencing intense pain in my upper back. Despite the pain, something felt- awakened, as if someone removed a blinder from my eyes and I could see. See as well as I could in this fucked-up world, but still see.

So why did awakening have to feel so shitty?

I sighed. I glanced at the clothes my sister left for me and smiled. My sister, who was perfect, liked having me around, unlike everyone else. Gritting my teeth against the pain, I ripped out my IV tube and crawled out of bed, _thunking_ onto the floor with a groan. I glanced at the doorway. Good. No nurses or doctors or anything of the sort. I stripped off my hospital gown and donned a clean pair of skinny jeans and a hoodie, which I always wore to school. My eyes were reigned in so hard it felt as if someone was literally yanking my tears out of my eye sockets.

A nurse knocked on the door. Pissed, I growled, "Go away."

She persisted. "Sir, I have to see if you're doing all right," she said rather reluctantly.

Moaning, I felt something strange come out of my back. My eyes felt dark, like the devil infused his evil straight into my visionary sockets, then after that, my eyes felt as if they were on fire.

Now I understood why I was feeling intense eye strain and back pain. "I'm a ghoul," I whispered. My pupils were red as a setting sun, which granted me the ability of strength, what I've always wanted throughout my entire seventeen years of my life. The whites of my eyes flipped. They were now pitch black as the moonless sky, never to light up again. They were directly tied to my soul, as I now had nothing and nobody left to enlighten my innermost being anymore. My back glowed with a full set of angel wings formed from blood. The feathers dripped the thick liquid, as they were still taking shape. I did not know if I could fly or not, but I spread my wings as far as they could go, and poised them to penetrate from both sides.

The nurse walked in. Rising from the depths of my moonless soul, bile and hatred manifested themselves through my wings and sliced the nurse into four pieces.

Four, delicious, pieces. I ate her torso first. I felt the heart and all the passageways attached to it dribble out of my fingers and ooze blood onto the floor, my clothes, and her uniform. I greedily ate the organs, for I lost all my taste for my favorite foods. Plunging my hands deeper into the corpse, I clenched my power-induced hands as hard as I could, and pulled out her stomach and savored the rich, yet subtle spice of her blood and gastric acid. Blood had splattered everywhere. I must look like a madman, feasting on this bitch like I am.

The doctor walked into my room and fell on his ass from shock. He saw the half-eaten corpse, my blood wings, and my eyes. Especially my eyes. I stared at his for the longest time, watching his sorry face convulse in shock and horror before I ripped off the nurse's head and tossed it into the air. Then, baseball-style, I smacked the head as hard as I could at the doctor. The head cut a round hole straight through his stomach, and his mouth opened before exploding with blood.

They wouldn't be using this hospital room anytime soon. I kicked the wall of the hospital and found myself standing in a pile of plaster and rubble seventeen stories off the ground. Glancing at my hardened wings, I leaped off of the building and spread them.

They caught wind, but the restraint the wind placed onto the wings hurt my back. Gritting my teeth against the pain, I landed the jump with a stumble, then I dropped to one knee. Panting, I looked at my newfound abilities. Now I had to kill humans to eat. No problem. I hated people anyway, so eating them isn't a problem. But would I find love? As I am now?

"Pfft. Bitch must be crazy if she'd go for me," I muttered to myself.

I walked off through the street, murdering people as I walked by them for the hell of it. I found great joy in killing the ones who gave me so much discomfort so often in my life. I grinned, blood staining my teeth. This life would be perfect for me.

Far above, on the roof of the hospital, Touka shook her head with disgust. "Not all Ghouls are as bloodthirsty as he." She turned on her heel and went back to Anteiku, for it was almost time for her to begin her shift with the drastically-changed Kaneki.

**Well, you like it? Thanks for reading. I appreciate any support and I will see you in the next chapter of something, someday. **


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